Beyond the Portrait's Frame
by Mau Caleb
Summary: "Something deep within me knew his intent and quivered in fear." Piroska fears and loves the man who teaches her. In her seventh year, a darkness leads her through the workings behind the facade that is Severus Snape. Is she in love or merely a fool?
1. The Beginning

**A/N:** _Contrary to my own wishes, there will be no 'lemons' in this story. Chapters will be published sporadically. Suggestions and comments are more than welcome. :) I don't believe that Severus is a bad guy. If it makes you feel better, put this in a totally AU. _

* * *

My entire life changed that year at Hogwarts. I was going into my seventh year. My major was going to be Portrait Art Education. The interesting thing about art in the wizarding world is that it takes a very, very long time to perfect your pigments. To enchant them just so in order to mimic minutely the mannerisms of the person or thing you are creating is the second or third most difficult job in the wizarding world

_(after being an Auror)_.

You need to know, in some intimate way, your subject. It takes true artistry, even with magic, to create a portrait.

Even with this as my main focus, potions played a huge role in my education. Each pigment is like an individual potion, made on a minuscule scale. Being a perfectionist, it took every free moment I had between classes, at lunch and before bed in order to have a full enough understanding to say I truly knew potions.

Even so, it was never enough.

Due to the fact that art was not a legitimate course at the school but rather a club run by the librarian's life partner

_(and the most interesting thing they made were singing beaded bracelets),_

Potions consumed my life. Often, on weekends, I'd sit under the cool gaze of Professor Severus

_(we had come to a first-name basis by my seventh year and he considered me a misplaced Slytherin Prefect)_

and I would slave and slave over a pot until my face was flushed and my hair singed at the very ends. I would thank the professor with a vial of my best brew and slink back to the Ravenclaw tower to absorb more information from my library of books.

_Cauldrons are Constant  
Charred Child's Play  
Potions through the Ages  
Blue versus White: The Difference of a Few Degrees  
'What's the Expiration Date on Stewed Newt_?'_ and Other Questions on Ingredients_

Unbeknownst to me, every time I came down early to set up burners and stands, I pushed a dazed man further into hell. Every accidental bump, every brush of a finger sent him spiraling into a torment even Dante's Inferno would envy. Two weeks before Christmas break, a near-full week after my 18th birthday, a giddy laugh at an unintended joke broke the camel's back.

"You know, Piroska..." he drawled slowly.

My eyes widened for a brief, terrified moment and then my face was blank. Something deep within me knew his intent and quivered in fear.

"I've been meaning to ask you for some help with something. It's been long overdue..." His voice seemed to ooze something slimy, something perverted, but his words were demure. "The shelves in this room need organizing and cataloging, but it is a most tedious process. I am requesting your assistance with the matter." Something malicious gleamed in his eye and just as quickly disappeared.

The cool feeling in the room and in his gaze was gone. In its place was a humid, red fog that seemed to swell up in my lungs and in his eyes. Students pushed past me to their seats while I stood, lips pursed white and goose flesh racing across my neck. Something almost rational within me cried

**"HE'S A PROFESSOR FOR CHRIST'S SAKE. HE CAN'T HARM YOU HERE. HE'S A PROFESSOR."**

But the red fog seeped up around the words, even so. With a grip so hard my own nails broke skin, I sighed out the words.

"Anything you need, Professor. I'm your girl."

His sneer shut that 'rational' bitch inside my head right up. He licked his lips and I knew my mistake was real.


	2. Confliction

**A/N Seaweed: **The reason for the lack of lemons is for the benefit of all. For one, I am never satisfied with the result and it could very well lead to a chapter haitus. Second, I wanted to explore the mental instead of the physical aspact of this sort of relationship. All this being said, there will still be some description of physical interaction leading up to the act.

* * *

The brooding, hot feeling in my stomach reminded me of one of my books: _Blue versus White: The Difference of a Few Degrees_. Bubbling acid seemed to make its way up my throat like liquid fire and quieted my demeanor. A usually brutal, honest person diminished to a zombie. Nothing ticked behind my black eyes. Nothing pierced my soundless bubble; neither the boys cooing behind me nor the near constant heat just a little too close to my hand. A vicious fantasy began to play its way through my mind. It was filled with torn clothing, blood and a cruel sneer. My heart was racing so fast that it felt like there was a foreign object within me that was prying its way out. My breath hitched in my chest. I was excited, not fearful. Not yet.

That rational bitch kept telling me I should go to Dumbledore. That innate, hungry whore within argued that Severus was merely 27, I 18. It was perfectly legal. The rational bitch retorted I should at least tell Bill; he was my closest friend. The whore: then again I didn't have many. And besides, he was a Gryffindor. He didn't understand the raw power, albeit oft at the expense of others, that Slytherins were capable of.

Class ended and I left in a daze, a hole burning in the back of my skull. He was watching. He'd always been watching. I made my way over to Bill, even as that whore tore and pulled my hair. He was relaxing in the courtyard, red hair ablaze and cool smile set against the page of a book on goblins.

In the gloom of his office, Severus glanced downward at his erection, full of anticipation. He wanted to spit at how pitiful he was. It was disgusting. How could a child control him? She didn't even know the extent of his lust! She was not extraordinarily beautiful. She was cunning, but not by birth. What drew him to her? He pondered the very thought a moment. It did not matter. Attraction was only a single figure in the equation. There was something beyond the necessity of physical contact. He wanted her to fear him. He _needed_ her to fear him.

I didn't tell Bill. He asked with mild interest what had happened to my hands; there were little rivulets of blood trailing from ten crescent-shaped cuts. I dismissed the question and lost my force of will. Instead we spoke of graduation and how our studies were progressing. I sighed inwardly at my inability to trust even my closest friend. He had always been wary of my contact with Severus. He was a smart man. I felt a small shiver run down my spine. Suspiciously, I glanced around, discussing the future still, and saw his towering figure across the way. He was calm, collected, but worse still he looked angry...it was a disguised anger. It was with a feeling of dread that I bade farewell to my friend. My robes rustled smoothly as I stood and made my way to him. My heart beat out of my chest. The excitement was gone. I was nervous now. His eyes bore into mine. As the distance between us lessened I could see a violence behind his eyes that sent a cold chill down my body. His imposing form dominated the landscape. His cruel gaze criticized everything, everyone and especially _me_.

His eyes did not depart from mine as I stopped before him. Several first years slinked away from the vicious figure before them. Bill watched cautiously. His lips curved upwards. It was neither a smile nor sneer. A hand with long, cold, white fingers came up to slick back his raven hair. Some who feared him called it greasy. I called it silken. My brutal personality broke through.

"What?" I muttered harshly. His eyes gleamed in the evening light.

"Now, now. Where did that sweet girl go?" The mockery was clear. It stung. Over the past year, he had not been so cruel to me. Bill sat alert now, book discarded. Perhaps he read the rigid body language and adverted gaze. Perhaps he simply hated the professor. Severus smiled. I did not show that I hurt, but he knew. He did not even have to look in my mind to know.

"Follow me, Piroska," he drawled.

I hesitated and he began to frown. There was a part of me that had grown to love the man, a part that wanted what was happening. But I was stubborn. I wanted it on my terms.

"I have an exam tomorrow. I can't help you tonight." It was the truth.

His eyes breathed fire as the words bit in. His long, cold fingers came up to grasp me firmly by the arm. He dared me to defy him. I complied readily by glancing over to Bill. Bill walked right up and grabbed my other arm.

"Hello, Professor. I am sorry to interrupt, but I must steal Piri away from you now. We have a heinous Economics exam tomorrow on the curses of Gringott's Bank and I promised to help her study."

His eyes narrowed.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, for rude interjection in matters not relevant to you."

"I really must go now, Professor Severus." My eyes were pleading. I saw a flash of the kindness he had of late begun to show me.

"Very well," he hissed, defeated for the present. As his vice-like grip pulled away I felt a moment of guilt, like I had betrayed him. But was it I who betrayed him, or him me? As I wondered this very useless thing, the tempest began to boil. I had set a storm in motion far greater than I had ever dreamed.


	3. Crucio

On the morning of my exam, there was an ugly blend of snow and sleet alternately. It was so cold that the trees were shivering in clusters, trying to keep warm through sheer numbers. The wind bit through the castle walls and everyone was bundled like it was the end of the world. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees to -22 Celsius overnight. The contents of spilled goblets froze within seconds of hitting the floor. The exam was horrid, the day long and the whole shit-cake finished with Potions. Even though someone had lit a fire in the dungeon, its heat seemed to dissolve into the air. My breath froze upon exhaling. My partner was a red-headed girl with glasses. She was utterly inept at brewing anything whatsoever. Within moments I had been forced to take over the whole endeavor while she read the steps to me; she was better at this job.

The class finished and left as fast as they could, rushing to their beds or common rooms to fight a losing battle to get warm. I packed slowly, methodically and as usual. I felt his looming figure behind me, but did not pause.

"Good evening, Severus." My voice was steady. My hands did not stop moving the vials and jars.

"Piroska, how was your exam?" He said it cooly, without emotion.

"It was just fi-" I was cut off as an invisible rope of cotton forced its way down my throat and silenced me, undulating like a snake down into my lungs. A vial of dragonfly wings went sprawling across the table to shatter in a cascade of shards as I flailed to grasp my throat and wand.

"A wand won't help you now." His voice was cold as steel.

I calmed my mind and focused on breathing. I found I could if I did it through my nose and air came to me in sharp, icy whistles. My hands were slowly brought above my head by similar ropes, pulling me across the table and securing me in place.

"Ah, what a specimen. Perfectly average. Perfectly usual." His voice hummed like velvet. One long, cold finger pulled my robes above my waist and unbuttoned my pants. "Oh, but we won't start there, will we?" His sneer was apparent even in this voice. My body trembled as he spoke the curse.

If you've ever felt your entire body breaking, bone by bone splintering and lacerating the surrounding tissue until you'd rather have your eyes pulled out than continue on, you'd know how it begins. If you've ever felt your teeth, one by one, shattering and having glass shards shoved back into your bleeding gums, you'd know the pain of clenching your teeth against the other, more horrible pain. If you've ever been forced into a fire and felt your skin blistering, bubbling, and peeling off in great gorey chunks, you'd know a fraction of the pain a single spell ends with as you fall limp. He wracked each individual part of me with such exquisite pain. By the time the rough, dexterous fingers made their way across my body, eliciting only primal responses, my mind had finally gone into shock. Every gentle caress, every sensual kiss caused my body to convulse and flinch away in fear. No more were his black eyes exciting and mysterious. No longer did his full attention grab my heart strings.

Once he had let me go, whimpering without control but softly to myself

_(and hopefully not loud enough for Him to hear_),

I stood in a state of confusion for the first time just outside his room. A trickle of blood was congealing or freezing on my inner thigh, I didn't know which. My eyes were red and puffy but hard. My fingers were blue from the cold and my nose red. Every piece of me screamed in phantom pain.

"Miss Oliver, what are you doing here?" A silvery voice echoed out of the darkness. A tall man with a long, white beard seemed to appear out of the gloom quite through magic. My heart raced.

"Headmaster, I-I..." I could not put together a coherent sentence.

"You look quite pale. Are you quite all right?"

"I'm...cold..." I said lamely. His eyes flashed bright blue in the murk. We stood for a moment, neither saying nor denying what we both knew I was doing deep below the castle.

"On your way, then, Piroska. No need to catch something. Best get warm up in bed." He went to grab my arm gently and I flinched away, moving up the stairs jerkily, in phantom and real pain.

I floated along, unable to think. My mind was still in shut down and even walking was enough to hold my full attention.

_Dumbledore knew._

Bill intercepted me as I arrived at the entrance to my house. I feigned a smile and walked right on into the common room after answering the riddle:

**What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?**

**A towel**

A horrible, crushing force hit me as I lay down. I curled into a ball and sobbed. A darkness overcame my vision and the world dissolved into nothingness.

_Used. I had been used._

A delicate kiss flashed past my eyes and then the horrible, blinding pain returned. A gentle look augmented into a malevolent snarl. A desire to see him again contrasted with a baser fear.

I was in his room again and our bodies were against each other. They were clammy and sticky from sweat and come and his hand came up to stroke me...

_Dumbledore knew, but still I didn't go to him. And Bill..._

Sobbing wracked my entire body until I heard the pitter-patter of feet on the stairs.

_What had changed?_

I shriveled up into a little ball and slept a mercifully dreamless slumber. Wind howled bitter against both the glass windows and the stormy night beyond.


	4. Recovery

Dumbledore stood before Severus, eyes closed in contemplation. A pot of water sat boiling behind them both, for now silent. Severus was correcting papers severely, taking off for even the most innocent of mistakes. A melody began as the pot began to boil; scritch scritch blub hiss blub scritch. Then, the kettle began whistling off a sweet chirp and the headmaster flicked his wand. Two cups with tea bags appeared and the pot came to tip two steaming pools of warmth. A flowery aroma filled the dank study.

"I could have you fired, you know..." the elder began melodically, quite dispelling the severity of what had actually been said. The professor looked up.

"Yes, you could, but you won't. You still think I'm some sort of use to you. Even after..." He grimaced and looked back down at his work. "Even after what happened with the _Potter_ brat. You think He's still around."

Dumbledore sat then, still sipping tea meditatively. The quill had been put down and the office filled with silence and the sound of water freezing into the walls. The headmaster's eyes locked with Severus'.

"It is quite outrageous, I know. I am the only one to think..." he trailed off purposefully. A moment's longer pause. "Why her, Severus?"

His face paled but he did not look away. Dumbledore held eye contact with menacing power.

"She's useful."

"I see...how was she? Was she worth it?"

"_Headmaster_," Snape spat, "I've work to do."

"Please be discrete, Severus. We don't need a whirlwind rumor disgracing our halls."

Snape made the minutest of nods, knuckles white, and Dumbledore retired to his own study.

I awoke from a sound; it was the sound of something breaking. I didn't know what it was, simply that it had the distinct sound of breaking bone and then was no more. Navy blue curtains obscured a bleak December sky. More clouds had rolled in and promised an equivalent, if not a worse, day than the previous. Ominous lightning forbade an obscene day. On my way to the Great Hall, quite early by my standards, I noticed Bill was not at his usual spot. I entered then expecting to see him eating a hearty breakfast in order to go study or some such poppycock. He was not there either. The only professor at the table was McGonagal, sipping tea and reading over the previous day's headlines. Hardly any food had yet been put out; there were scones, pumpkin juice, water and eggs. I sat down and helped myself to a glass of water. About twenty minutes later the typical early risers began to trickle in while bacon, pancakes, sausages and croissants appeared to greet them.

I ate nothing. I heard nothing. The low murmur of voices pervaded the hall but did not make it into my bubble. The ceiling was rolling grey and white, thunder and lightning dancing like dangerous playmates. Bill then entered, on Dumbledore's heels, whispering animatedly, furiously and with great purpose. Dumbledore appeared amused, but nodded politely at even intervals. Then He walked in, graceful, fierce and cold. Bill pointed with vehemence at Snape.

I saw, but did not care. Perhaps I paled slightly, knowing I was some burden on my only friend, but nothing that changed my demeanor. Flitwick seemed to notice my sulking, but was soon engrossed with Sprout about some interesting plant (I'm sure). I felt the icy wind hit my face and knew He was looking straight at me. A blush spread across my face as I pushed myself back from the table and left. Bill stormed after me out into the corridor, grabbed my arm so hard it hurt and spun me around to face him.

"Piroska!" His face was livid. "Did he hurt you? Did he insult you? Why are you so lifeless? Look at me!" His eyes were on fire.

"It was like a detention. It was cold. Maybe I caught something." There was no hesitation, but a slight shrug of my shoulder to prove I was apathetic about it.

"I don't believe you," he whispered, though his voice wavered.

"It wasn't even as bad as DADA second year. I'm fine. Did you get your exam back yet?" I shoved my book under my arm.

His eyes flickered and he nodded. He had gotten it before the professor had gone to breakfast. He'd done extraordinarily well. Bill was nowhere near satisfied, but accepted that I was not in harm's way. Sometimes, Gryffindor loyalty and trust was unfounded while Ravenclaw wit was impermeable. _When had I grabbed a book? _I blinked away my own question, scared at this blank in my memory._ What else have I blocked..._

That day I did not have Potions, but sat angrily with my NEWT Transfiguration homework. Twenty inches. No quoting. It was on Animagi. A small, scared first year approached me with a scrap of parchment.

_He would make a good mouse,_ I thought to myself.

"A-are you M-Miss Oliver?" he stuttered.

I glared and inclined my head in the affirmative. He shoved the parchment, moist with sweat and crumpled, into my outstretched hand. The ink was blotched and hard to read, entire letters too blurry to decipher, but I knew the hand that wrote it.

* * *

_**My of**ce. S*t**day. W*'v* lots *o get t*.**_

_**Sev*rus**_

* * *

"We've lots to...get to..." I mouthed the words. The small boy was quivering in his place, apparently waiting for me. I looked up. "What is it? Why are you still here?"

"He-to say Prof. Snape-a-asked me to g-g-get a rep-p-p-p-"

"Stop stuttering. Yes, yes, don't be nervous around me. Here's a toffee. There's a boy. Hold on then..." I rummaged for an ugly scrap of parchment. To be snide or fearful? Hm...snide it is.

* * *

**Do I need to bring towels? - Piri**

* * *

I folded the note into eighths and thrust it at the boy, now chewing a toffee with a vaguely less worried look. He swallowed quickly and took off like a scurrying mouse into a cat's lair.

_No, no. That's an awful simile. Severus is a snake. Let us not kid ourselves._ There was nothing warm or fuzzy about the man.

I expected a reply immediately, but after a handful of hours, accepted he was done for the day. _Or maybe he'd eaten his messenger_...I wandered into this thought, packing my essay (three inches too short!) into my bag and trudging off to face my doom. I set myself. It was solid, but not solid enough. For the time, I'd forgotten about the silky man in the shadows. I had momentarily separated myself from that crushing fear and allowed myself a moment of ordinary.


	5. Stupor

It was suddenly Friday. Where had my week gone? I thought to how disappointed McGonnagal had been with my work and how Flitwick had mentioned my lack of enthusiasm.

_I've never been a disappointment. _

_Where am I? Oh._

Suddenly I was before the gaping maw that was the dungeon: my own personal hell, individually tailored just for me, each stone and bone precisely for me. Others groaned as they passed by, joking and laughing about how they were going to fail, how they hadn't done the paper...

_The paper? Shit..._

What did I care, knowing what I had in store? Somehow, I had dropped to mediocre, one that could hardly brew Polyjuice let alone anything difficult. I had floated down the steps and was now before the classroom. Despite my three layers of clothing including, but not limited to, thermals, two pairs of thick, woolen socks and a scarf, I shivered. He looked up, locked eyes with me and, as if they were black holes, his eyes pulled me in past the event horizon*. I sat down, shaking and not knowing why, knowing but of his constant smirk and nothing else. Heat rose up in my face, despite the impending chill upon it. Above all else I looked him in the eye and did not break contact. I was not weak, though I was afraid. Luckily, my fear saved me from an even worse fate.

"Piroska Oliver, your paper?"

"I-I was not aware of the assignment, Professor."

"Oh? You mean you weren't listening in class. 20 points from Ravenclaw. A pity. How about a month of detentions, every Saturday, for the next month? Very good. Your paper, Mr. Torrence?"

I sat and stared at my hands, fingers curled up above my palms, resting on my thighs. There was nothing I either wanted or could do. For the first time I realized Dumbledore knew, but hadn't stopped it from happening. My mother was less than likely to believe me, being that she already thought I lied about most of my life to get attention. Even if it became a scandal, what was the likelihood of anyone believing one student in their seventh year against the word of the headmaster?

_Piroska, you twat. You've dug your hole, now live with it._

That stupid inner bitch was back, grinning and bringing thoughts of hot passion before my eyes. My inner friend cried weakly for me to still confront Dumbledore, Bill, Flitwick, anyone, but her voice was made of whispers and shadows.

"Piroska!"

The room was empty and Severus towered over me, cold, marble hands grasping the edge of the desk. My resolve acted before I had the chance to second guess myself. I stood with ferocity, grabbed his face and pressed my lips against his. His lips curled upward, but he did not kiss back.

"You like it." The deep rumble pervaded the room.

Shaking with vehement fury, I pulled back, disgusted by his contented sound and then spat onto the ground, where it likely froze upon contact. He lifted one, nimble finger and I flinched ever so slightly. Rather than strike me, he lifted one strand of hair and tucked it behind my ear. I rather think he liked the painful suspense I waited in. The playful passion we'd had but two weeks earlier had become ice cold. His finger brushed my bottom lip. Then, there was a squeak. A wide-eyed child's face peered around the door. Severus whipped out his wand, to stun the child or worse, but I pulled his arm back.

"GO." I shouted at the first-year.

Snape whipped around, wand digging cruelly at my ribs, even through layers upon layers of clothing. The anger bubbled behind his sleek curtain of hair and I could feel it, both hot as molten magma and as deeply chilling as the touch of steel. At least there was still emotion behind his childish cruelty. My heart raced. Was the pain going to be worth it? Did a child's momentary pain compare with the agonizing and endless torment that was to be my remaining time with Severus? He pushed me off and bade me leave. His voice was small, hollow. I grabbed my bag and left.

"Where'd you get that mark?" Bill inquired as he entered the boy's dormitory. I had gone there to change and he'd found me stuck in a sweater, half on and half off. My purplish ribs were showing quite plainly. I pulled the sweater, with much ado, the rest of the way down.

"Fell off my bed doing homework. Want to know why? Some creep had gotten into the girl's room and left our panties out last night. Found out not a minute earlier. I'm staying here tonight. Gives me the willies thinking about it."

Bill eyed me suspiciously. I was not a bad liar, but I was bad at hiding when I was nervous. Severus and pop quizzes were the only things that made me as nervous as I then was. He put his things down in his trunk and seemed to be mulling something over. He was not a stupid boy, but I rather think he chose to ignore things too heinous to speak of. I don't think he knew, per say, but I do believe he knew something more than he let on. Instead of going after my conspicuous attitude and 'potential' lie, (or perhaps he did) he said;

"...are you in love with me?"

I laughed, slapped a hand or two over my mouth, turned strawberry red and could not find my voice to contradict his statement. By the pained look I saw through my tears of joy, I realized I had offended him. It was not the first time I had slept in his room, but we'd never been more than close friends. I see in retrospect that he wanted more, but I did not.

"I-I'm sorry, Bill..." I trailed off, wiping the tears from my eyes with the sleeves of a sweater his very mother had made for me. "I didn't mean it in a mean way. I just wasn't expecting it, you know..." A bit of the pain abated in those words. "I'm your friend. Friends don't sleep with...ok, friends don't have _sexual relations_ with each other." His eyebrows furrowed. "You're hot. You could do a lot better than me. I'm not trying to slow you down, man. If this is starting rumors, I don't want to be a burden on your game."

He shook his head and sat down on his bed. My bag and robes from the day were already piled onto it and he pushed them to the foot. I went and sat down next to him, still crying a little bit.

"No, it's nothing like that. You've just been acting weird lately. I thought maybe...maybe it was a boy...or me...something's changed in your life. You won't tell me. It was the only thing I could think of."

"You haven't done anything wrong. I've been a little off because of graduation and all that. I don't know where I want to go-"

"You wanted to do portraits, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I need something to do to make money in the mean time and I haven't figured out where to go yet."

"Have you spoken to Snape? He probably knows something. You're brilliant at Potions."

"I...he hasn't been much help, unfortunately. Now if you don't mind, today's been a rough day and I'd like to get some sleep."

And with that, I kicked him off of the bed, rolled over, and fell into the soundest sleep known to man. He shook his head and watched me, warm gaze like a cozy fire at my back until I had drifted away.

* * *

*_Event horizon - a theoretical boundary around a black hole beyond which no light or other radiation can escape._

**A/N:** Sorry, school's been a drag. I'm trying to write as much as possible, but I have a lot of other stuff to catch up on. Expect at least two chapters during winter break/around Christmas time, but we'll both be lucky if there's much more! Thanks for reading, guys~


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